Little Moments
by magneticdice
Summary: A collection of short, Gallavich one-shots, set in an ideal time when Ian and Mickey are happy. (This is my Fic!February project/compilation.) A lot of them are just the boys talking to each other and being real. Some are plausible future!fics.
1. No Pressure

**No Pressure**

The sun was hot on Mickey's skin. He could feel its warmth soaking into him. He reached for the water bottle by Ian's backpack, thankful that the younger boy had had the foresight to bring one along.

"Can we just..." Mickey stole a glance at Ian but quickly looked away when he saw that the redhead was staring at him.

"What?" Ian asked, curious. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass, his shorts riding up just enough to reveal the pale skin on the inside of his thighs.

Mickey looked out at the lake, watching the ripples move along its surface, trying to slow his breathing down to be in time to the waves. "Nevermind."

"No, come on. Tell me what you were gonna say," Ian pushed. He put a hand on Mickey's sweaty thigh and Mickey quickly swatted it away.

"Okay, okay. Sorry," Ian said, smiling. He knew the older boy was still uncomfortable with the whole touching-in-public thing, but couldn't help testing the limits sometimes. Maybe one day his hand wouldn't get pushed away.

"That's okay, Mick. We still have another mile to run," he teased, jumping to his feet. He held out his hand for Mickey and helped pull the brunette up.

"You're an asshole," Mickey muttered.

Ian grinned. He knew Mickey well enough to know that the older boy wasn't actually angry at him—just exhausted. Ian patted Mickey on the back, trying to be as encouraging as possible. "You can ask me whatever you wanted to ask whenever you're ready. No pressure."


	2. Liar

**Liar**

"I don't know why she came by," Ian said to Mickey right after the older boy had closed the door on Debbie. "Maybe she wanted to see Mandy?" he suggested.

"Liar," Mickey spat.

"What are you talking about?"

"You. Being a big, fucking liar," Mickey answered, annoyed.

"What makes you think that?" Ian put on his most innocent expression.

"Oh fuck off, Gallagher. I know when you're bullshitting."

"Well that's stupid because I'm not."

"Yes you are. You think I don't notice when you lie? You always look up and to the left when you're making shit up. You have the most blatant tell I've ever seen."

Ian could feel his cheeks turn red and turned away so that Mickey wouldn't see it.

"_Knew_ it," the brunette said, feeling vindicated. "Now tell me why the hell she was here again."

Ian's shoulders fell as he looked up guiltily from the couch to meet Mickey's eyes. "I might have told her I was here with you..."

Ian cringed, ready for the impending blowout that would come from Mickey getting pissed off, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes slowly, carefully, until he could see Mickey again. The older boy was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, biting his bottom lip with his teeth.

Mickey huffed out a laugh. "What'd you think, I was gonna hit you or something?"

Ian relaxed his muscles, not realizing how much he had actually tensed up. Mickey sat on the couch opposite him and frowned.

"No..." Ian said carefully, "I didn't think you were gonna hit me. I know you're not _him_." He didn't have to explain any further; they both knew who "he" was. "I don't know what I thought... Are- are you angry?"

Mickey _was_ angry, but he was more horrified by the idea of Ian thinking he would have hurt him. He would never hurt him... _ever_ again, and that included forcing him to do things that would make him sad.

"No," he said, making up his mind. "She's your sister. You can tell her whatever the fuck you want to tell her, okay?"

Ian's brow rose in slow surprise. "Okay..."

"Okay," Mickey repeated, making it final. "Just don't lie to me about it... 'kay?"

Ian nodded. He felt bad about his earlier reaction, and about lying. He didn't want to lie to Mickey anymore. "I won't."

"Good." Mickey uncrossed his arms and felt unreasonably cold.

"Yeah." Ian shifted so that he was sitting in the corner of the couch, leaving enough room for Mickey to sit beside him. He wasn't surprised when the older boy got the hint and moved to occupy the space.

"You have a tell too, you know..."

Mickey looked at Ian with surprise. "I do _not_."

Ian watched Mickey worry his lip again, in the way the redhead found so sexy. All he could think about was how much he wanted those lips on his.

"Of course you do. A few of them, actually... Maybe I'll tell you some day."


	3. Soul Mates

**Soul Mates**

"Do you believe in soul mates?"

"What kind of faggot-assed question is that?"

Ian couldn't help but laugh at the irony of Mickey's statement. They were lying on a sandy beach, at night, on a blanket, watching the night sky for shooting stars. It couldn't get any gayer that that.

"Can you just answer the question?"

"No."

"No you don't believe in soul mates or no you can't answer the question."

"Can you just shut the fuck up already? You're breaking my concentration."

Ian turned his head to the side. He studied Mickey's face, from the scruff that had grown on his jaw to the way his pale skin looked almost clear in the moonlight, to the thousands of little stars that reflected in the glossiness of his eyes.

Ian knew that he was right, even if Mickey wouldn't answer the question. It might have taken a while to get to this point, but he just _knew_ that it was true. He slid his hand into Mickey's so that their fingers were intertwined.


	4. Ketchup

**Ketchup**

"We need more ketchup," Ian said as he closed the fridge door.

Mickey stuffed a ketchup-smothered chicken nugget into his mouth. "No we don't," he answered while still chewing, his mouth full of food.

"Umm, yeah we do. Look." Ian held the bottle up for Mickey to look at.

"There's still a lot in the bottom," Mickey reasoned, pointing to the inch of ketchup that was left. "Just give it a good shake." He resumed eating his lunch.

Ian frowned. He hated using ketchup when it was almost empty, because nine time out of ten it would splutter everywhere, even with the most violent of shakes.

"Ketchup costs like two dollars at the store. Why are you being so cheap about it?"

"I'm not being cheap," Mickey said defensively. "I just don't see the point in getting something new if the old one isn't done. You know, like getting a new pen before the other one runs out of ink. It's perfectly fine, so what's the point? You don't gotta fix something if it ain't broke, right?"

Ian couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Mickey talk so passionately about something so unimportant. He hid a smile and shook the bottle hard before squirting it onto his plate. He didn't even complain when it sputtered mid-squeeze and sent little drops flying all over his plate, the table and his shirt.


	5. Dress Up

**Dress Up**

"You look so good in that shirt," Ian said, admiring Mickey. The brunette's arms and chest filled the black button-down he had on with pure muscle-y goodness. Ian grabbed Mickey's bicep and pulled his boyfriend closer to him. He ran his other hand down Mickey's back until it settled in the dip just above the older boy's butt. "..._but_ I wish you'd take it off," he added with a toothy grin.

Mickey laughed but shimmied out of Ian's grasp. He popped his collar and put a skinny, black tie around his neck. "Okay, Firecrotch. How 'bout we get this thing over with first, and then maybe I'll let you take it off of me," he said with a wink.

"_Maybe_?" Ian asked, stepping forward so that he was back in Mickey's space again. His chest was flush with the shorter boy's back, and he couldn't fight the urge to put his hands all over Mickey.

Mickey closed his eyes, distracted from the task at hand. He could feel Gallagher's semi poking him from behind, and he wondered when it was that Gallagher realized he had so much power over him. He was tempted to let the redhead rip his shirt off then and there...

"_Definitely..._" he breathed.


	6. Buzz

**Buzz**

Mickey sat on the corner of the sofa while Ian lied across it lengthwise, with his head on the older boy's lap. Mickey placed his fingers on redhead's neck, his thumb and index finger gently rested just below Ian's hairline. He started absentmindedly massaging Ian, his fingers gently moving in small circles while his attention was fully on the television.

There was nothing Ian loved more than feeling Mickey running his fingers through his hair after he got a haircut. It was such an affectionate thing to do, and Ian relished that rare gesture.

What he didn't know was that Mickey loved doing it to him just as much. He loved feeling the younger boy's spikey, short hairs tickle his palms with each forward motion. Without even realizing it, Mickey was sliding his hand forward towards Ian's forehead and then back, against the direction of his hair growth, lightly scratching Ian's scalp with his chewed-at nails, buzzed hair springing free as Mickey's fingers glided over them.

Both boys were relaxed and utterly content.


	7. Skyping

**Skyping**

Mickey felt like he was always tired these days. He wished Ian would hurry the fuck up and get into bed so he could turn the light off.

As if on cue, the redhead walked into the bedroom, carrying the laptop right along with him. He sat on the edge of the bed and set the computer down.

"Hey Mick, do you like vampires or werewolves better?"

Mickey sighed audibly. "Why...?"

"Debbie wants to know. She's taking a course this semester called 'Exploring Fantasy Literature' and has an assignment due tomorrow."

"What'd _you _say?"

"Vampires—totally."

"Are you serious?" Mickey scoffed. "A werewolf could totally kick any vampire's ass," he said with confidence. "Plus, you've hear about that _knotting_ thing, right?" he added in a whisper.

Ian's jaw hung open, but he composed himself just long enough to say goodbye to Debbie and put the laptop onto the floor before jumping on top of Mickey.


	8. Questions

**Questions**

"What's your favorite food?"

"Jello."

"Favorite color?"

"Black."

"Black's not really a color, Mick..."

"What-the-fuck-ever."

Ian shrugged.

"Favorite sibling?"

Mickey took a second to think before answering that one. "Mandy, even though she can be a fucking cunt sometimes—no, _most_ of the time."

A minute went by without either of them talking. He felt Ian shift beside him and heard him reposition his pillow _again_.

"Do you remember your dreams when you wake up?"

"Of course I do... who doesn't?"

"I usually don't."

"Oh." Mickey laughed a little. "Well maybe it's a redhead thing. I _knew_ you were a freak."

"Shut up!"

"I will if you do. Can you quit it with the twenty questions? I have work tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

They were quiet for a few more minutes. Mickey pulled the blanket up so that it rested right under his chin.

"One more?"

He sighed but nodded, not even wondering how Ian would see the gesture in the dark.

"What was your favorite class in school?"

"I hated school."

"I know... but how about when you were younger? Which class did you hate the least?"

"Math. You done now?"

"Mhmm."

Silence, finally.

"I can feel you watching me, Gallagher."

Ian laughed.

"Just ask whatever else you're wondering," Mickey ordered.

"Okay. How come you're not asking me about my favorites?"

Mickey shrugged. He didn't need to ask Ian anything because he already knew the answers. He knew Ian loved spaghetti because it was so easy and cheap to make. He knew his favorite color was green because it was the primary color in camo. He knew that Ian would never choose a favorite sibling because he loved them all with every fiber of his being, and he knew the redhead loved English because it was what he excelled at—he even tested out of it in his junior year.

"Can we please just go to sleep, Ian?" he sighed, exhausted.

Ian leaned over and kissed Mickey's forehead, beyond giddy from hearing his lover use his first name.


	9. Weed

**Weed**

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you smoke weed before."

Mickey coughed and passed the joint back to the redhead. "That's because I haven't."

"You've never smoked weed?"

"Of course I have, idiot."

Ian furrowed his brow in confusion, and Mickey laughed at how utterly lost the kid looked.

"I was on probation," Mickey explained. Ian just stared at him, heavy-lidded eyes blinking slowly every very seconds. "My probation skank had to give me a drug test every week," he clarified.

"So this is your first time getting high in... what, three years?" Ian asked.

Mickey shrugged his shoulders. "Guess so."

"I wanna fuck you while you're high," he growled, all but tackling Mickey.


	10. Jason Statham

**Jason Statham**

"Aye, wanna come over tonight?"

Ian looked up from the cans he was restocking. "Yeah," he answered immediately, then added, "why?"

"My brother bought the new Jason Statham movie on DVD from this Korean lady selling screeners on the street. It's supposed to be bad-ass."

"Everything he does is bad-ass, Mick."

He resumed working, not thinking twice about the invitation from the older boy.

"Think Linda will let me use an employee discount on beer?" Mickey asked Ian as they were closing up for the night.

Ian laughed. "Probably not. I'll pitch in for a six-pack though."

"Nah, man. I need a two-four. Iggy and Joey drink beer like fucking fish."

"Oh. Wait a second—your brothers are gonna be there?"

"Yeah... Joey bought the DVD."

"And you want... _me_... to come too?" he asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't have fuckin' asked you to come if I didn't fuckin' want you there. Just don't do anything too gay, alright?"

"I'll try, but I dunno Mick... it's gonna be hardhide my boner while watching Statham for two hours," he teased.

Mickey screwed his face up in mock disgust. "You need to get over your old-man fetish, Gallagher."

He went into the fridge and grabbed a case of beer, bringing it to Ian who was counting the cash from the register.

They locked up and walked towards the Milkovich house.

"Are you gonna put your arm around my shoulders while we watch the movie?"

"I'm gonna throw this case at your face, that's what I'm gonna do," Mickey scoffed.


	11. Late Night Call

**Late Night Call**

The buzzing from his phone woke him up in the middle of the night. A quick survey of his room told him that he was the only one awake: Carl was still snoozing with his headphones on and Liam was completely unconscious, drooling in his crib.

Ian squinted at the small preview screen on the top of his cell phone until his eyes adjusted to the light. He smiled and hurried to the bathroom before answering.

"Hello?"

"I like... your _freckles_."

Ian laughed before remembering that Fiona was right down the hall and probably still awake. He covered his mouth until he was calm, then asked, "Are you drunk?"

"_May_be."

"Holy shit."

"S'not like you neverrr ge' drunk, Fire-crotch..."

"Yeah but it's not like you to call me when you're wasted. Where are you?"

"You're stupid," Mickey said, actually giggling. "M'right here."

Ian laughed again, more quietly this time. "Yeah but where is 'here'?"

"My _room_."

"Why'd you drink so much?"

"SHHHHHHHH. Mandy's throwin' up in th'bathroom."

"Okay," Ian said in a whisper to appease the older boy.

"C'mere. Let's fuck.

It only took Ian five minutes to get dressed and sneak out.


	12. Pets

**Pets**

"We should get a pet," Ian said to Mickey while they watched TV. The older boy was flipping through the channels and had settled on some dog-training show.

"Fuck _that_! I'm not wasting any of my time or money on a fuckin' pet. Those things are like black holes."

"Did you ever have one before?" Ian wondered, never having thought about the Milkoviches owning pets before.

"Mandy had a little hamster when she was little but Iggy's snake ate it."

"Iggy had a _snake_?"

"Uhuh," Mickey nodded. "But it got loose and dad shot it. You?"

"Debbie and Carl had a turtle, but it died when nobody took care of it."

"See? They need time and money, none of which I have extra of."

"Okay, but how 'bout something cute, like a kitten or a puppy?"

"Kittens and puppies _grow _into selfish cats and hungry dogs, that _still _need time and money, Gallagher."

Ian sighed, defeated. "I guess I'll just have to wait 'til you're ready for kids then..."

Mickey looked at him with absolute horror in his wide-open, owlish eyes.

"OH my God! You thought I was _serious_?!"

Ian had to duck because the remote control was quickly hurdling towards his head.


	13. Uncomfortable

**Uncomfortable**

"Can we talk about something else?" Ian begged.

"I thought you loved all this army shit," Mickey teased.

"Yeah, well, that was _before._ Plus, I don't nag you about all the stuff that makes _you_ uncomfortable, do I?"

Mickey raised an eyebrow in question.

"Oh come on! You know what I'm talking about..."

Ian waited but Mickey was still acting innocent.

"Fine," Ian said, annoyed. He shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing Mickey, and ready to push the older boy to the limit. "How about, instead of talking about drones, we talk about the _wife_ you still have? Or your dad?"

Mickey frowned, but Ian wasn't done. "Maybe I should call Mandy over and you can answer some of her questions about us. Or we can talk about your feelings, or our relationship, or—"

"Alright, alright! I get it."

Ian smiled smugly before lying back down.


	14. Shivers

**Shivers**

"Mickey, you're freezing!" Ian shouted when Mickey got into their bed, his cold limbs like icicles against Ian's warm body.

"M'fine."

"No you're _not_. You're shivering! Come closer, I'll warm you up."

"You're s-s-s-" Mickey stammered, but his teeth were chattering so much that he couldn't get it out.

Ian put his arm around Mickey, pulling him closer, then wrapped his arms and legs in a hug that even a cobra would have been impressed by. He quickly rubbed Mickey's body until the shaking slowed then stopped altogether. Mickey's breathing eased and Ian felt him relax in his hold.

"_So_ gay," Mickey finally said, once he was able to think straight again.

Ian wanted to tell him that what was _gay _was not wearing a coat when he went outside in the snow. Instead, Ian leaned down and, kissing Mickey on his forehead, whispered, "Yeah, I know."


	15. Not a Chick

**Not A Chick**

"I'm so glad I ain't a chick. Can you imagine being on the rag every month?"

Ian laughed at the random comment. "What are you talking about?"

"Being a chick. I think it would be fuckin' disgusting."

"Yeah but what made you think of that?"

Mickey scowled as if reliving the very moment Ian was asking about. "Mandy left her box of tampons out on the bathroom counter."

"Well, at least she isn't pregnant, right?" Ian joked.

Mickey shook his head. "Can you _not _talk about my sister being pregnant?" Mandy being pregnant implied Mandy having sex, and he didn't want those images flooding his brain.

"Well, I'm glad you're not a girl either."

"What—you wouldn't wanna bang me if I had tits and a vag?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders, not entirely sure. "Good thing we don't have to find out!"


	16. Pricing

**Pricing**

"How the hell does Linda come up with these prices?"

Ian shrugged. "How would I know?" He watched Mickey as the older boy carried another box of sugar down the aisle.

"It's stupid," Mickey muttered.

"Why?"

"Because the smaller packages cost less than the bigger ones."

"Umm, yeah? They're smaller, so of course they're gonna cost less, Mick."

Mickey shook his head. "No, that's not what I mean. Look," he explained, pointing at the prices. "The one pound bag is two bucks, but the five pound bag is $11.99. You'd get an extra pound for free if you bought twelve dollars worth of the smaller packages."

Ian did the math in his head and then stared at Mickey, impressed. "Hm. Well, maybe she's banking on everyone here being really stupid," he offered by way of explanation. "I mean, we can't all be fucking mathematicians like you and Lip!"

Mickey scoffed at the compliment but Ian could swear he saw a smile touch the brunette's eyes.


	17. Our Song

**Our Song**

"What do you think our song would be?"

"Gallagher..."

"I know, I know. You 'don't think about faggoty stuff like that'," Ian mimicked, "but I'm _asking_ you to think about it now."

Mickey let out a sigh. "I have no idea. Why does it even matter?"

"Because couples have songs. I consider us a couple, so I think we need a song."

"Yeah, but we don't like the same kind of music. You like that club dance shit and I hate it."

"Fine, forget it."

Ian crossed his arms over his chest and pouted exaggeratedly.

"Hah! Come on, don't get upset," he said, putting a hand under Ian's chin and trying to make him look up again. "Ay, seriously. You should be glad I didn't complain about you calling us a couple, ya fairy."

Ian laughed even though he tried not to. "But I want us to have a song," he said, still defiant.

Mickey huffed out a defeated breath. "There was a song I used to listen to... when you left..." He whispered the last part of the sentence. They didn't talk about that time.

"Oh?"

"It's called Canyons, by Paw City."

Ian searched for the song on YouTube and played it.

"It's really sad," he told Mickey when the song was over.

The older boy nodded. "But it's not as sad hearing it when you're next to me."


	18. Haven

**Haven**

"Can I ask you something?"

Mickey felt Ian nod against his chest.

He let his fingers trail down the redhead's back, settling on his waist. "How'd you know where to find me?"

"When?" Ian asked, turning his head to the side so that he was looking at the underside of Mickey's chin as they lay together on the rooftop.

"After... you know. _After._" Mickey wouldn't make eye contact, but that wasn't unusual whenever he talked about that dark time of his life.

Ian shrugged. "Mandy said you hadn't been around in days. I just figured you'd want a place to be alone... safe."

"Like a haven," Mickey whispered, nodding.

"Yeah, exactly," Ian said, looking back up at the night sky.


	19. Vacation

**Vacation**

Ian ran into the bedroom, absolutely giddy.

"Where would you want to go, if you could go on vacation anywhere?"

Mickey was absentmindedly flipping through a car magazine on his bed while smoking a cigarette. He exhaled a puff of smoke and gave Ian a look that said, 'again with the fucking questions?'.

"No, Mick. I'm serious. Vacation. Anywhere. Pick."

Mickey tapped the cigarette on the edge of an empty beer can that was on his bedside table. "New York, probably."

Ian grinned, teeth flashing white, and pulled two pieces of paper from behind his back.

"_Knew_ it!" he said triumphantly.

He sat on the bed and passed Mickey the papers. Confused, the older boy brought them closer for further inspection. Ian had given him printed out round-trip Amtrak tickets to New York City.

"What's going on?"

"Debbie was telling Fiona's new boyfriend that she wanted to see the tree at Rockefeller Center, and he said we should all go. Then Lip said he wanted to take Mandy, and," Ian blushed. "Well, he got us _all_ tickets. So, we're going to NY!"

"I don't know what you're high on, Gallagher, but I am _not_ going on vacation to NY with your whole family..."

"I know, Mick. You're going with _me. _They just happen to be coming along." Mickey shook his head but Ian knew that it was nothing a couple of good blowjobs couldn't fix.


	20. Got It

**Got It**

You know when you try not to think about something and it's all you can think about? Well, Mickey had spent the last three hours in bed thinking about Gallagher and his stupid job, even though all he wanted to do was sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, his mind would race with questions and what-ifs and downright worry. When he finally heard the redhead get in, relief washed over him like a cold wave on a hot summer day at the beach. Ian tried to be quiet, but the floors creaked with every slow, careful step he took: the downside of living in a cheap apartment. Mickey laughed at having stayed up, knowing he would have woken up when Ian got home anyway.

"Oh, you're still up?" Ian asked as he undressed. Mickey could see the outline of his body in the light coming in from the street, their shitty curtains doing little to keep it out.

"Yeah, man. Was thinkin' bout you," Mickey admitted, his wariness causing him to be more forthcoming than he would be if he'd gotten some sleep.

Ian smiled and bent to rip his socks off before getting into bed.

"Well?" Mickey pressed once Ian had settled into his spot on the bed, one arm gently laid over Mickey's waist, their legs intertwined.

"I got it," Ian whispered. "They said I was 'a valuable asset to the team' or some shit like that."

"See? What'd I fuckin' tell you?"

"Yeah, Mick. You were right... I should'a asked for a raise months ago."

Mickey put his arm over Ian's and gave it a little squeeze. "Congrats." He turned his head back and gave Ian an unexpectedly affectionate kiss before closing his eyes.

"Thanks," Ian breathed. "Does this mean I'll get a congratulatory hummer in the morning?"

Mickey pretended to be asleep, despite the fact that he was grinning like an idiot.


	21. Anniversary

**Anniversary**

Ian was in the kitchen getting more cold beer when Mickey arrived at the Gallagher house. He looked up from the fridge and saw the older boy standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

"Oh good, you're here," Ian said happily.

Mickey uncrossed his arms and reached for the beer Ian was offering. He twisted the bottle cap off and took a swig. "Explain to me again what this party is for?"

"I told you: Today's Frank and Monica's twenty-third wedding anniversary."

Mickey furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yeah, I heard you, but your parents ain't happily married. What gives?"

Ian laughed at Mickey's bluntness. "Doesn't mean they weren't happy at some point. We started celebrating it a few years ago. It was Debbie's idea, actually." He motioned for Mickey to grab some more beers from the fridge and follow him to the living room. "Around Thanksgiving time, her second grade class was doing a project about what they were thankful for, and Debbie brought her drawing home. We hadn't really thought about it before then, but if Frank and Monica hadn't gotten married, none of us would be here."

There was only one seat left in the crowded living room, but to Mickey's surprise, Ian took a seat on the floor, in front of the empty space on the couch, and waved Mickey over. The brunette took a seat and Fiona queued up the tape in the VRC. Mickey watched in disgust as the Gallagher parents' wedding video began playing on the screen: Monica, high as a kite, danced down the aisle and touched the guests' faces on her way, ranting about how soft they were, while Frank, drunk as ever and smiling foolishly, stood at the altar waiting for her.

Debbie got up holding a bouquet of paintbrushes and walked around the living room, imitating her mother. Carl was standing beside the television, swaying side to side and waiting for Debbie to reach him. Everyone was cracking up, including Kevin and Veronica.

Mickey fought to hide his amusement, leaning forward to tell Ian that his family was totally fucked up.

"I know," Ian said, turning around to face Mickey while giggling. He settled back to lean against Mickey's legs and, to his surprise, the older boy didn't kick him away.

It was only later that night, when the kids had gone to sleep and the rest of the family had moved the party to the kitchen that Ian had a second to talk to Mickey in private.

"That wasn't bad, right?" he asked the older boy.

"What're you talking about? That shit was hilarious," Mickey replied, remembering the part of the video when Frank had slipped vodka into the punch and had gotten their priest so drunk that the fucker had grab Monica's ass during the reception.

"I mean hanging out with my family..." Ian said while biting his lip, a habit he'd picked up from Mickey.

"Oh. Nah, it wasn't that bad," Mickey conceded, but immediately regretted when he saw the reaction it elicited from the redhead. Ian was grinning like Mickey had just told him he would be getting Birthday head, not that that was something they did...

"Good," Ian said, huge smile almost reaching his ears. "I hope our wedding anniversary is as much fun as this was," he said, giving Mickey a quick kiss on the cheek and running to the kitchen to join his family."

Mickey took a second to recover from the younger boy's comment. "_Gallagher!"_ he called after Ian, but it was no use as all of the fucking Gallaghers turned and shouted "WHAT?" from the kitchen.


	22. Ten Years

**Ten Years**

Ten years wasn't necessary a long time. It depended on the context. Debbie was ten when Ian and Mickey first hooked up, but Ian had considered her to be young. Aunt Ginger had been dead and buried in their backyard for more than ten years, but Ian hadn't felt her loss at all until they'd had to dig her up. Still, whenever he thought about how long he and Mickey had been together, it felt like _ages_. Ten fucking years. _More like ten years of fucking_, he thought with a smirk.

"What's so funny?" Mickey asked as he walked to the living room carrying a bowl of microwave popcorn. He sat on his favorite corner of the couch and put his feet up onto Ian's lap.

"Nothing," Ian said with a shrug. "Just thinking about how long we've been 'together'," he explained, making little air quotes with his hands. "Can you believe it's been ten years?"

Mickey scowled. "It's been _twelve_ years, Gallagher."

Ian turned his head to the side and studied Mickey's face. "I'm twenty-seven, Mick. I enlisted with Lip's ID when I was seventeen. That makes ten years."

Mickey bit his lip. "So what, the first two didn't fuckin' count?"

"We were barely together during the beginning. Hell, you were in Juvie most of the time." He stared at Mickey who was shaking his head. "You were still fucking girls that whole time!" Ian continued. "And don't even get me started on the fact that you were _married_!" He looked at Mickey with his jaw practically hanging open.

"Ay! You were fucking other guys too, so don't even start with that shit. I just don't think it's fair to ignore it," he told Ian with a frown.

Ian sighed, but Mickey had a point. It was during those first couple of years that he had first fallen in love with the brunette sitting beside him.

"I mean, it should at least be counted at fifty percent," Mickey joked.

They both laughed at that. Mickey took a handful of the buttery popcorn and passed the bowl to Ian as the movie began.


	23. Mine

**Mine**

Ian walked over to where Mickey was sitting with his own tray full of food. They'd probably gone a little overboard with ordering off the value menu, but both boys were starving.

"The guy gave me an extra order of nuggets," Ian said happily, but was confused when Mickey didn't look too excited about it.

"Of course he did," Mickey muttered.

Ian looked up at him, surprised by the hostility in Mickey's voice. "What?" he asked, not sure what was going on. He opened the container of nuggets and held it out for Mickey to take some.

The brunette pushed the box away with his tatted hand, and instead reached over to Ian's tray and took one of his burgers.

"What the hell, Mick? You have your own," Ian complained.

"Yeah, well, I figure if you're gonna be a whore, I might as well benefit from it too." He unwrapped the burger and stuffed half of it into his mouth in a single bite. "S'mine now," he added, sneering while chewing the delicious fast food.

Ian scowled at him, brows furrowed in annoyance. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mickey shrugged, still chewing his enormous mouthful of cheeseburger. He swallowed it with a big gulp before putting the other half in too.

"I was watchin' you," Mickey said with his mouth completely full. "Why don't you go eat with Mr. Minimum Wage over there? I'm sure he'll give you another burger if you suck him off instead of just smiling at him like that."

Ian realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it, watching Mickey while the brunette continued chewing _his _burger. "Are you being serious?" was all Ian could manage to say.

Mickey didn't answer—he just unwrapped his own chicken sandwich and took a bite.

If Ian didn't know any better, he'd swear Mickey was jealous... but that was impossible. Mickey Milkovich? Jealous? No fucking way! ...But then again, Mickey had been jealous of Ned back when he'd taken Ian out for drinks at the Fountain that one time...

"Are you _jealous_?" Ian asked, voice full of doubt.

"Fuck you. I ain't jealous of some high school dropout who can't do nothin' better than work at a fast food joint."

Ian's eyes widened. "You _are_! You're jealous!"

Mickey grabbed the redhead's box of free nuggets and started eating them too. Ian wordlessly opened his barbeque sauce packet and pushed it over to the older boy, knowing how much he loved it. He tried not to grin when Mickey dunked one of the round pieces into the sauce.

"Well you have nothing to be jealous of," Ian assured him. "He can flirt all he wants but I'm not interested in anyone else."

He could swear he saw Mickey's lips form into a smile around the next nugget that went into his mouth.


	24. Paint

**Paint**

"Can you hold this while I get the top?" Ian asked, pointing at the ladder with his paintbrush.

"Why?" was Mickey's response.

"I don't want it to wobble," Ian answered.

"It's not gonna fuckin' wobble. It ain't broken."

Ian was tempted to make a comment about letting Mickey do it himself but thought better of it. He knew how sensitive Mickey was about his height, or lack thereof, and even with the ladder, Ian would barely be able to reach the ceiling.

"Can you please just hold the ladder, Mick?"

Mickey made a face but held the ladder nevertheless.

"Thanks," Ian muttered. He climbed up and finished painting the edges of their new crappy little studio apartment.

"Whatever," Mickey said. "At least I get a nice view." Ian looked down at the brunette and saw him smirking up at him, raising his eyebrows suggestively.


	25. Talents

**Talents**

Mickey walked into the mayhem of the Gallagher house after getting a text from Ian telling him to come over. There the redhead was, in the middle of the living room, entertaining the day care kids by juggling.

"Jesus, I didn't realize I was going to the fucking circus."

"Oh, hey Mick," Ian said, keeping his eyes trained on the balls as he tossed them methodically into the air.

"More, more!" the kids shouted together.

Ian bit his tongue but gave a slight nod to Debbie, who was standing at the ready with another ball. The younger redhead carefully tossed the ball into the fray and Ian added it into his cycle with ease.

"Since when do you juggle?" Mickey asked from his spot in the doorway. When Ian had invited him over, it hadn't crossed his mind that the house wouldn't be empty, and he felt like he was intruding on something.

Ian shrugged and the movement broke his rhythm. The balls went toppling down to the floor, bouncing all over the living room, much to the amusement of all the random brats there.

"Oops," he said apologetically to them. The toddlers only giggled in response.

Ian gave his little brother Liam a kiss on the top of his head and waved to his sister before walking out the front door, dragging Mickey with him.

"That something you picked up at the club?" Mickey teased. Ian gave him a look that spoke volumes, but Mickey couldn't help but push it. "Guess they had you practice with loads of balls, right? Black, white and yellow? Maybe a Mexican pair thrown in here and there?"

"Jealous again, Mick?" Ian teased back. Mickey tensed up and Ian noticed. "Relax. It's just something I've been able to do since I was a kid," he said, changing the subject. "That, and this."

Ian stopped walking to open his mouth and show Mickey his tongue, rolled into three distinct waves. "Not everyone can roll their tongue," he said proudly.

"What the hell?"

"Can you do it?" he asked Mickey.

"Do what?"

"Make the three leaf clover?"

"The fuck's that?"

"This," Ian said, rolling his tongue into the shape again.

Mickey smacked his face playfully and kept walking in the direction they'd been headed. It took Ian a couple of seconds to catch up.

"Try with one," he insisted. "Make your tongue look like a taco."

"I'm not doing that," Mickey declared, but couldn't help sneak at peek at Ian's mouth again, tongue sticking out in the shape of a fucking taco. He wondered if the redhead was so good at giving blowjobs because of his exceptional tongue control. He felt himself getting harder with each passing second and shook his head. "Seriously, _not_ doing it, so you can stop."

Ian closed his mouth and shrugged, seemingly accepting Mickey's refusal. "Do _you_ have any talents?" he wondered.

"Yeah, I'm really good at shutting up annoying redheads by shoving my dick in their mouths." He raised an eyebrow suggestively at Ian, who laughed in turn.


	26. Birthmarks

**Birthmarks**

"You have so many fuckin' freckles."

"I know," Ian said, skin blushing ever-so-slightly under Mickey's gaze. "It's not like I can do anything about it," he said to the brunette as he turned to look at him properly in their bed. "At least they're not as bad as when I was a kid. I swear they've gotten lighter."

Mickey nodded. He remembered the _boy_ from all those years ago with brown spots splattered all over his face, shoulders and back.

"Now it's like _you_ have more than _me_."

Mickey was confused. "What?"

"Freckles. Yours are darker than mine."

"They are _not._"

"Yeah they are, Mick." Ian lifted a finger and gently ghosted it along Mickey's face. "I used to think you were just dirty but they're definitely freckles."

"Shut the fuck up, Gallagher," Mickey said to him, swatting Ian's hand away from his face.

Ian laughed, fully aware that his 'dirty' comment was what had pissed Mickey off.

"Don't worry, I think your freckles are _sexy_," he said with a smile, kissing Mickey's cheek right near his nose, where the freckles were the darkest. He trailed his kisses across the brunette's face, moving down gradually, licking and teasing and sucking all over his boyfriend's body until he reached Mickey's boxers.

"Almost as sexy as your birthmark," he whispered loud enough for Mickey to hear. Ian bypassed the area covered by Mickey's boxers, despite knowing how turned on the brunette was, and went even lower to Mickey's thigh. He kissed the brunette's inner thigh, adoring the birthmark he'd first seen there so many years ago. It hadn't changed, unlike the freckles. Mickey laughed as Ian continued gently sucking on the familiar spot.

"Stop fucking around and get to it, Firecrotch."

"Sure thing, boss," Ian said, pulling Mickey's boxers down with a grin.


	27. Prostitute

**Prostitute**

"We should get a car," Ian said, jumping onto the foot of the bed after his shower.

Mickey scowled and moved his magazine out of the way as Ian proceeded to shake his wet hair, sending droplets all over. "What the fuck do we need a car for?"

"Driving places," Ian answered, as if it was the stupidest question imaginable.

"That's what the El's for, idiot," Mickey shot back.

"Yeah, but it would take less time to get to work," he reasoned.

"For your ass, maybe, but not for me," Mickey huffed. "Cars are expensive. You gotta pay for them, then there's gas and insurance. Where's all this money coming from, Firecrotch? You got some kinda side-job I dunno about? You givin' those ancient, gray-haired faggots more than just fruity drinks now?"

Ian scowled at the implication but knew better than to take it to heart. He got up and let his towel fall loose around his hips. It slowly slid down his body and pooled at his feet. All the while he watched Mickey intently for a reaction.

The brunette raised his eyebrows at Ian. "If you think you're gonna get me to buy you car by offering me sex, you're delusional," Mickey bit out.

Ian ignored him. He took a step closer to his boyfriend, picked up the magazine in Mickey's lap and tossed it onto the floor behind him.

"Gallagher, I'm not paying you for sex. Never have and never will."

"You _did,_ once," Ian corrected.

"As if your coked out ass would remember that..." he shot back, except Ian could see the doubt in his eyes as Mickey said it.

"I'm not asking you to buy me a car for sex, Mick," he breathed as he lowered himself onto Mickey's lap. He ran his hands down the older boy's shoulders and arms while leaning in to kiss his neck. "I'm asking you to do it because you love me," he whispered.


	28. Games

**Games**

"Do you wanna play a game?" Ian asked once they'd caught their breaths.

Mickey laughed and unexpectedly shoved Ian off the bed.

"Hey! What was that for?" the redhead asked indignantly, rubbing his ass where it had hit the ground upon his landing.

"Do you wanna play a game?" Mickey repeating in a mocking tone. "This ain't some Saw shit. I ain't interested in your weird-ass games."

"I meant a board game or something, Mick. What the hell?"

Mickey shrugged dismissively, but Ian glared at him until he reached a hand out and helped pull the redhead back up.

"What, like monopoly or some shit?"

"Yeah, we have a bunch of different games downstairs. I think we even have Risk."

"Doesn't that takes hours?"

"You mean you don't wanna spend hours with me?" Ian asked, feigning shock.

Mickey worried his lip, then nodded. "Fine, whatever. Go get whichever one you want."

Ian grinned as he threw on a pair of boxers and hurried down the stairs. He loved this new spend-all-my-time-with-you version of Mickey.


End file.
